


A dwarven Heart is made of Stone

by Silva_13



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Durincest, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, denied marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13/pseuds/Silva_13
Summary: A dwarven heart is made of stone; so they say. But exceptions confirm the rule, obviously.





	A dwarven Heart is made of Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenia_che](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenia_che/gifts).

> This is my gift for the Durin's Day Gift Exchange 2019 for the lovely xenia_che. 
> 
> This story was inspired by this wonderful piece. Make sure you check out their works!

For two days now, the rain was falling heavily. The mist was so thick Fili could barely make out the dwarf riding in front of him. In fact, everything he could see was the rear of his brother's pony, and maybe it was better this way. So no-one could see his red eyes and the clenched jaw, clear signs of his heartbreak and sorrow. Kili was probably not better off, but seemed to be able to hide it better. There was radio silence between them, ever since they had left Bag End, for none of them was able to bear the other's presence for too long.

Having been drawn towards each other all their lives like moths to the flame, they had their difficulties with their new roles; to be 'just brothers'. Although being raised as princes and having undergone a lot of etiquette classes and composure lessons, this was beyond their abilities. They couldn’t just ignore the mutual feelings for each other. All their lives they had shared everything. _Everything;_ laughter, pain, time, secrets, warmth, bed, even their breaths. And love, physical and emotional, dreams and hopes. They had lived their lives as one; one soul with two hearts beating. And now they were expected to go separate paths. They just couldn't do it.

Kili had become silent and withdrawn, while Fili had tensed up and gotten peevish. None of them could abide the change the other underwent, and therefore avoiding each other appeared to be the better way. The easier one.

Not coming too close to Thorin helped too, although it was not even his fault. Even he as the king had to obey the Council of Elders when it came to succession matters.

_"A dwarven heart is made of stone. Carry on, little prince, it won't be too long before the responsibility of rulership suppresses any silly love matters."_

Little prince; _singular_. They hadn't even as much as addressed Kili. Thorin had been fuming, shouting and spatting all their way home, while his brother had been quiet and pale. As though he had known before.

Of course, he had known. Dwarves like him weren't deemed fit for a ruling position, be it as the heir himself or his consort. They were considered the better workers. Creators of the great wealth a dwarven kingdom came with; their work valuable and precious, but their personality not apt to govern. The tension in Fili's body increased and he grated his teeth in anger, for the memory of Kili being dismissed stung.

The only comfort, although only little, was the familiar weight around his neck and the feeling of rough stone, warmed up by his body heat, rubbing over his breastbone and pulling at his chest hair. For many decades it sat there, hidden under the layers of his clothes. He could even remember a time when there hadn't been any hair at all, his torso slim and the skin soft and vulnerable. The stone had been way heavier back then and it had been way more difficult to hide it. On the other hand, hiding hadn't been necessary back then. Ever since it had been given to him, he had worn it on a leather string around his neck, grateful and proud of this gift.

It was Kili's very first attempt in exploring the possible ways of dwarven craftsmanship. He had been only 7 by then, hands still chubby and clumsy, barely able to do up a button. And yet, he had made this for him. A stone heart, roughly carved and the shape barely recognisable, his meaning unbeknownst to anyone but him. A symbol of unconditional love and adoration. It had been the first of many gifts Fili would receive throughout his life. Each of them speaking of waxing skills, dedication and thoughtfulness. 

When Kili had given it to him, no-one could have known what an outstanding artisan he would become one day, creating wonderful things from metal, stone, wood and any other material he could get his hands on to. Kili was also an excellent goldsmith, being known for the most magnificent adornments on weapons, tools and jewellery.

But still, his brother would never be acknowledged by the Elders as what he was, for it wasn’t what was needed for the kingdom in their opinion. He was an outstanding craftsman, but also a kind and gentle soul; loyal, generous, loving and good-hearted. What they chose to ignore was that he was also a brilliant strategist, sharp witted, fast learning, ingenious, visionary, incredibly skilled and determined. Fili could have gone on and on with his list of Kili’s qualities, and how they made him the perfect consort and heir.

But in the end, it had been what Kili was not, on what the Elder’s corroborated their decision. He was not what they wanted to see in a ruler, be it king, heir or consort. In their eyes, such a dwarf had to be commanding, intimidating, iron-willed, relentless, unbendable and self-assured; beyond question and doubts. The Elders had always let his little brother feel that they were not satisfied with how he had turned out. There was nothing wrong with his character or approaches towards the many things of the dwarven life and culture. But as the prince, the heir’s consort even, his view of the world and his preferences were unwanted and undiscussable. Had they not heard that the world had changed and a kingdom could only prosper with strong allegiances, which needed care and diplomacy? Probably they still lived in a world, where someone could declare war over a stupid thing like a jewel or something.

Kili had always known and never minded. He didn't yearn for ruling. But he did yearn for his brother, and thus the denial of being his consort had hit both of them hard. Thorin had prepared them as carefully as possible, but still the meeting of the Council of Elder’s had left them in shock and grief only a few weeks before they had left for the Quest of Erebor. It had put a damper on their drive and excitement.

_A dwarven heart is made of stone. _

That's what they had learnt all their lives; that dwarves were able to overcome emotional and mental conflicts within the blink of an eye, that it didn't matter for them and that everything which was important was the kingdom, wealth, tradition and strength. That was the way a dwarf should be, the way he was considered strong and _dwarvish_. Dwarves like Kili, though important for the construct of a dwarven society, were not made for ruling positions and therefore not supposed to marry the crown prince, or even to be named as heir themselves. They were deemed weak, susceptible and inconstant.

_Those stupid dotards. _

Fili’s head hurt from the strain he put on his jaw and he tried to relax his muscles, when Thorin called for them to make halt.

“Fili! Kili! Watch the ponies.”

~~~

He looked at the simple wooden cups filled with hot tea Bofur had given to him. They were nothing compared to the ones they had at home. Of course, Kili had made them long ago, his hands way more skilful. But still, he had been a child back then, hence they were not perfect. Fili fondly remembered them, how they felt in his hands and what they meant to him; family, home, and devotion. Beautifully shaped and big enough he had to hold them with two hands. Kili had carved runes into the surface, making each of them unique. At first Kili had only made two; for him and his brother. But their mother and uncle had been so amazed seeing his wonderful work he had made another two for each of them. Fili remembered fondly Thorin’s eyes shining with pride and joy when he had received his particular exemplar. He had always been proud of his nephews, no matter what others might say. Fili knew their expected separation was hurting him as well, for he wished for nothing more than them being happy. Thus he had sent them off watching the ponies together, in hope they might be able to find back to each other. And Fili hoped that too. He couldn’t lose Kili; neither as brother, nor as a lover. 

He was pulled out of his musings when he almost bumped into his brother’s back, who was standing in the midst of the path.

Kili stared into the darkness of the forest, counting the ponies once again. Sixteen, good. It wasn’t really necessary to recount them repeatedly, as none of them was likely to run away, but it was a good distraction. He started to count them again, when everything he really wanted was to race to his brother’s side and kiss that bloody tension away. They had never been like this. The awkward silence was killing him, but still, he didn’t know what to do. If he approached his brother, they would probably end up kissing, and then everything would become even more complicated.

He had to let him go. Rather sooner than later, for it would only become more painful the longer they put the parting off. The mere thought of standing by his brother’s side when they were not allowed to be together anymore made his heart clench. He dreaded watching him rule from afar, from the shadows; cast aside and forgotten. That’s how he pictured his future life without Fili; lonely and cold, just like the mountain they were heading to.

“Kee, have some tea. You look pale. Can’t have you falling ill to complete our misery.”

Kili turned, eying his brother, who held two wooden cups in his hand. The shy smile on Fili’s face was like a stab to his chest. His brother should be happy. _He_ should be happy. It wasn’t right, being sent off to reclaim the mountain when loneliness and heartbreak awaited them in the end. But he didn’t say anything, he only smiled back and tried to look his brother in the eyes. Fili didn’t deserve being cast out only because he was hurting.

“Thank you, Fili. I’m indeed thirsty, but apart from that I’m fine.”

He made a careful step towards him, making sure he didn’t come too close. Keeping his distance was better for both of them, he assumed. When Fili handed him one of the cups, their fingers brushed for a second and both of them winced, then looked at each other regretfully. Oh, how he had longed for Fili’s touch. And how he had missed him using his nickname, he couldn’t even express

“You’re so withdrawn,” his brother stated eventually with a sad tone. “You only ever are when you’re angry.”

“I'm not angry with you. Please, Fili,“ he hurried to make that clear. “I'm angry with them. How they sit in their comfortable armchairs, sending us off and simultaneously making a lifelong lasting decision about two people they don’t even know!”

The last words were spat and Fili squeezed his brother’s shoulder to calm him.

“I won’t let them.”

Fili’s voice sounded broken and raspy. He linked his hands behind the brunet’s neck and started to kiss his face with feather light touches of his lips. It almost made Kili’s knees buckle and he sighed involuntarily.

“Fee.”

Fili smiled, indulging in the closeness he had missed so much.

“My love,” he whispered as he kissed Kili’s closed eyelids. Without a sign of resentment, Kili started to whimper.

“Fee, we really shouldn’t do this. We … we … Mahal, I missed you so much.”

The blond turned serious and stopped kissing his brother.

“Kee, look at me.”

And Kili did, his huge fearful eyes wide open.

“There must be a way. I wanted you all my life, and I _will_ marry you. Even if that means to overthrow the Council of Elders!”

“That’s ridiculous, you fool of a prince!” Kili laughed, although there was a bitter tone swinging with it. Soon, he got serious again, his eyes full of sorrow.

“The Council’s decision is final.”

“Not when certain circumstances change. Reclaiming and rebuilding a kingdom is a huge change, don’t you think?”

“But _I_ won’t change. I will still be the delicate artisan, too weak and unfit to rule; inappropriate for the heir’s consort. They’ll never agree to our marriage.”

“They will. I don’t know how, but we will change their mind. Trust me. And what’s even more important, have trust in yourself. You are not weak, nor are you unfit to rule. You are the finest dwarf I know. And the only one I want to marry, by the way.”

He was glad when he saw Kili’s expression relaxing and then cracking up into a wide smile for the first time in weeks. He was just about to bring their lips together for a proper kiss, when they heard a noise in the bushes.

“Fili? Why is it there’re only fourteen ponies anymore?”

~~~

Kili lifted the cup of water to Thorin's lips, who lay on the makeshift bed they had set up in Beorn’s hall. He was still recovering from his fight with Azog and his white warg, although the injuries were healing quickly, thanks to Gandalf's treatment.

Still, Kili was brooding. The bad mood between him and Fili had taken a turn for the better after they had been freed from the trolls. They even had enjoyed some peaceful days in Rivendell, which they had spent mostly in bed, too busy with each other to join the others’ shenanigans. But after leaving the Hidden Valley, they had stumbled from one peril to the next, out of the frying pan into the fire, so there hadn’t been any time to spend together; at least not alone. And now, with Thorin injured and the picture of the single, dark peak on the horizon etched in his mind, his spirits had reached rock bottom.

The Lonely Mountain. It should have filled him with joy and excitement, and in a way it did. But when he thought of their ancestral home, he mostly felt pain and heartbreak. What once had filled the dreams of their childhood would become the place of their separation. _The reason_ for their separation. He would lose his brother, because some influential people in powerful positions didn’t agree with his personality.

His uncle took a small sip and smiled, eyes warm and grateful.

“My lad, you must not worry so much. I'll be fine."

Kili tried to smile, but it wasn't convincing at all.

"I really thought he killed you. I couldn't have borne that … on top of everything else ...”

“Kili, don't go there. I'll be fine. Try to relax."

The young brunet nodded vigorously, but still seemed troubled, and his uncle knew why.

"I hate to see you like this. I never wanted for both of you having to suffer through such agony. I only ever wanted you to be happy."

Kili gave him a crooked smile.

"Fili says, we will be. He's convinced he'll sway the Elders' opinion."

"I'm sure he will. And I wish you would have more faith in him."

"I don't lack of faith in him, it's the lack of faith in the Council of Elders. Look uncle, I'm aware that I am not what’s expected from the heir's consort. I'm sorry I haven't tried harder and changed. Maybe I should have ... just ...”

“Kili, stop it! I need you to listen. I'm glad you are the way you are. I couldn't have asked for more. You are a remarkable dwarf; skilled, smart, deliberate and devoted. And yet, you are not lacking strength, combat skills or fortitude. You're the most perfect consort or heir the Line of Durin could ask for. You know, we have a history of misplaced proud, rashness and Gold Sickness. Who, if not you, could stand by the future king's side, directing him through all the straits which might come up?”

“Only you can smooth your brother's spectacular frowns and eye-rolls alone with your presence,“ he added with a wink and Kili chuckled, picturing a bored and annoyed Fili, rolling his eyes and groaning while holding court.

“I may be of help in that matter.”

Thorin shifted and groaned with pain, then shifted again, trying to fumble something out of his collar. Obviously it had gotten stuck, and Kili helped him, pulling at the leather string until he could free the attached pendant from under Thorin’s back. It was bent.

“Mahal, this blasted dog must have gotten it between his teeth. It’s completely twisted.”

Kili couldn’t help but feel flabbergasted when he recognised the metal pendant. He had made it for Thorin’s 150th **b**irthday.

“You still have it?”

“I’ve worn it every day ever since you gave it to me. Now it’s ruined.”

“I may be able to repair it, once I find a proper forge. But I could always make a new one, if you’d like?”

“No, I want this one. It’s a masterpiece. One of many, made by you. Your mother has always been the best-jewelled dwarrowdam in Ered Luin. It’s marvellous what you are able to do with any random piece of metal. I can’t wait to see what you’ll create, once you get your hands on some mithril.”

His smile faltered when he saw Kili’s sad face, eyes moist and lips quivering slightly.

“What is it?”

Kili shook his head no and ushered, “it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Then he looked hastily away.

“You’re not. What is it?”

“I … I always planned to use mithril for Fili’s wedding beads. I hoped I could get some when we’ve reclaimed Erebor and then … then …”

It broke Thorin’s heart once again, when he saw how distraught his youngest nephew was.

“You will. You’ll make him the finest beads Middle Earth has ever seen. And now, no more tears. Go, find your brother. You should rather spend time with him than with your old, frail uncle.”

Kili found his brother outside, staring back to the Misty Mountains with a cloudy face. It softened immediately, when he saw his younger brother coming towards him, but tensed up again when he noticed the red eyes.

“Has something happened? Is uncle alright? And … are you?”

Kili shook his head and tried to smile.

“He’s fine. And me too. It’s just … Ever since we’ve seen the Mountain I feel like something really bad is coming up. Like … a threat. I know when we reach Erebor we’re supposed to part, and I don’t want to go there. But on the other hand, it’s the quest we’ve been prepared for all our lives. Our purpose. Our birthright. I don’t know what to do, Fili.”

He melted into his brother’s open arms and rested his chin on his shoulder. They stood like this for a long while without speaking a word. Eventually Fili took Kili by the shoulders and held him at arm’s length to look him in the eyes.

“We will _not_ split. You and I are born to be together, and we will fight for that right. They want a war hero? They’ll get one. Even if we have to make up a story.”

“Will you tell them I slaughtered the dragon? They wouldn’t believe a word,” Kili snickered.

“We have eleven dwarves and one hobbit, who will have witnessed the epic battle between Kili and Smaug,” Fili chuckled. “Maybe even a wizard; who would dare to doubt him?”

He grinned when he saw Kili’s wide smile, all white teeth and sparkling eyes. Never in his life would he give him up. He would rather abdicate and run away with him.

“Fee,” Kili whispered in his ear and a shiver ran down his spine.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

They stayed outside that night, seeking comfort and warmth in each other. Even when the fire had died down with only the ambers glowing in the dark, they hid away from the world under thick furs, exchanging soft touches and caresses, and kissing passionately.

And if anyone from the Company left Beorn’s hall that night, they pretended to not hear a single sound.

~~~

He stood high above the ground, just having found this magnificent place, looking stunningly at the different colours the rising sun bathed the rock walls in. Red, orange, purple, yellow and gold, Fili would love it. Who could have known his ancestors had built a secret bridge over the hidden clamp, which extended through the peak of the Lonely Mountain, dividing it actually in two halves?

Although his days were filled with dark thoughts and coldness, he couldn’t help but admire the place he had found after exploring where the dusty stairwell in their room led to.

“Kee.”

The small whisper was barely audible. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. Hoping Fili would choose to let it be. He didn’t.

“Kee, I woke up and you were gone. The furs are all cold without you.”

Fili slightly shivered, sensing that his brother’s mood had spiralled down again. 

Kee, please. Look at me.”

He tried not to, but the gentle hand, tugging on his own and turning him around, could not be ignored any longer. Although they had spent every free minute since their arrival in the alcove in a room they had for themselves, buried under warm furs and limbs entwined, his brother never had felt further away than now. The shadow of the mountain, towering high above the plains, and their uncle, being seized with Gold Sickness and greed, were weighing heavily on them.

He turned and locked eyes with Fili, and every resistance was gone. He brought their foreheads together, and fought with the unshed tears in his eyes. His brother didn’t say anything, but his eyes were red as well, and so, so sad.

The affectionate gesture usually filled them with warmth and love, but now their hearts ached with grief and the increasing agony of threat and heartbreak. Obviously theirs weren’t made of stone at all.

“I’ll find a way. I will not accept this. Not now, and not in a hundred years. Those dotards have no idea what really matters in life. They’ve sat on their comfortable chairs all their lives and … “

“…and yet, they’re the ones who are in charge when it comes to succession.”

“… and Thorin won’t either, I wanted to say. We agreed to file the motion again, when Erebor is reclaimed. I won’t give up on you. So please, don’t do either.”

“Thorin is no longer with us, Fee. He’s changed.”

Fili closed his eyes, drawing in a sharp breath when his brother spoke out the unbearable truth. Ever since they had reached the Mountain, their uncle had become more and more obsessed; with the Arkenstone, the defence of ‘his’ kingdom and the gold. His words had become harsh, his thoughts irrational and his eyes hard; stone-cold, like his heart.

With Thorin on the verge of madness, war knocking at their gates and the all-overshadowing threat of separation, it was nearly impossible to see any hope anymore. Kili was clinging to his brother, just as he had done as a child when he was scared, digging his fingertips in his back, while Fili had both hands on the side of his brother’s head, rubbing his thumbs gently over the latter’s temples. Hot, salty tears were mixing on their touching noses.

“Don’t leave me,” Kili whispered, and his brother vigorously shook his head.

“Never.”

They stood there for a long time, high above the ground on the lonely bridge, kissing each other desperately, too aware it could be the last time.

All of a sudden, Fili pulled his left hand back, hissing with pain and sticking a bleeding finger in his mouth. Kili startled, but then grinned amusedly at his brother.

“Don’t say it happened again.”

“Of course!” Fili mumbled around the finger in his mouth. “I tell you, one day you’ll kill someone with that bloody hairpin.”

Both of them laughed out loud, as it wasn’t the first time Fili had hurt himself on this particular piece Kili had made for himself. The small incident was a welcome diversion and both of them relaxed a little. Kili reached under the layers of Fili’s clothing, pulling out the little stone heart and caressing it with his thumb, a warm smile on his lips. Then he looked deep in his brother’s eyes.

“I’ll gladly kill anyone who dares to come between us.”

And with that he kissed him fiercely, putting all the devotion and love, all his passion, into that one kiss.

It didn’t last long before they heard Dwalin’s voice deep down, calling for everyone to gather in the weaponry.

~~~

The encounter between elves and men on the one side and dwarves on the other had quickly turned into a battle against the black hordes of the united forces of Gundabad and Dol Guldur; with no less a figure than Azog the Defiler and his son Bolg in charge. The black armies’ appearance had been completely unexpected and soon they seemed to prevail, although the pooled forces of dwarves and elves had reared huge holes in their lines.

The battle was acrimonious and bloody. To cap it all the orcs had managed to drive a wedge through the dwarven lines, separating the sons of Durin from the rest, leaving them standing alone against the orcish leaders.

Thorin had gone down unresponsive, having received a massive blow from Bolg’s giant mace. So Fili came to his aid, after managing to stab Azog in the abdomen with one of his swords and being sure his brother was perfectly managing the white orc, having dealt out a deep gash to his thigh with his own blade. He attacked Bolg with his relentlessly dancing twin swords, so the latter could only back away.

But then events came thick and fast, allowing no time to catch a breath, let alone reuniting in the fight for their lives. Everything happened at the same time and even afterwards, recalling the details was difficult.

Azog, though slowed down by his abdominal wound and the injured leg, swung his mace, delivering a broadside to Kili’s torso, who was flung through the air and landed on his back a few feet away. Fili had seen the attack out of the corners of his eyes and turned with a scream on his lips.

“Noooo!”

That second of absentmindedness was used by Bolg to deal out another blow with his own mace, which was thankfully not struck with his full power due to his injuries, but still hit the blond on his right temple, knocking him down. He could only watch the upcoming events through a veil of blood and with a blurry sight, unable to move and his head thrumming.

Terror seized him when he realised, although Kili slowly gained consciousness back, Azog was already closing the distance between them, his blade raised to end his brother’s life for good. And Kili, having lost his sword mid-air, was now unarmed. Fili struggled to get up, mind and heart racing, desperately shouting his name while simultaneously fighting Bolg off, who had his own weapon raced to stab him. He managed to roll to the side, when Bolg brought the point of the mace down, but the orc still hit his shoulder and pinned him to the ground, which left him helpless and struggling like a bug on its back. But it was not the pain or his upcoming death which left him in terror. It was the realisation that he wasn’t able to help Kili, who was about to die as well.

He franticly fought to release his last throwing knife from the hidden scabbard between his shoulder blades. Bolg was leaning over him, trying to pry his weapon free whereas Fili fought to have free sight of the giant orc’s father and Kili. Saving his own life wasn’t important to him, but his brother’s; he could not think of anything else.

_Kili! Kili! Kili! Kili……._

And so, he aimed for the pale orc instead for his son, who was still distracted with freeing his weapon, which was stuck in the ice; and Fili.

In that very moment, when he was just about to throw the knife, Azog leaned over Kili, ready to ran his sword through his chest, when the brunet suddenly moved, swift and fluent like a snake. He came up to one knee, pulled something of the back of his head and rammed it in the pale orc’s face.

For a moment the world seemed to stand still, and even the armies appeared to have come to a halt. For another five agonisingly slow elapsing seconds Azog didn’t move, listless and frozen to the spot. Then he fell to the ground; dead.

In the meanwhile Bolg had finally freed his mace, pulling it out of Fili, which caused a white-hot pain running through his left shoulder and brought him back to reality and his own precarious situation.

The very moment Bolg lifted the mace again, bending backwards to gain more force, Fili threw the knife, which pierced the orc’s throat. It killed him only seconds later.

For a single moment the world seemed to freeze and the noises of the battle were muffled. The brothers stared at each other, mouths agape with shock, before both of them moved simultaneously, staggering towards each other.

One collapsed to the ground when reaching the other, both kneeling and facing one another, fingers entwined. Their breath came in short gasps, repetitive whispers of the other’s name on their lips. They brought their foreheads together, still winded and with tears of relief and joy in their eyes; their numb fingers smearing up blood while they caressed each other’s faces.

“How did you ... How?”

Kili couldn't answer at first, for he was still short of breath. A shortly gasped “hairpin” finally left his lips before he started to cough violently.

“…ran it through … his eye and … probably … his brain…”

Fili shook his head in disbelief and couldn’t help but laugh, all pain forgotten.

“I told you, one day you will kill someone with that blasted thing! I have never been more amazed by your skilful hands.”

He turned serious again, and looked into Kili’s fearful face, who seemed to have the same thought at the same time.

“THORIN!” they shouted in unison and turned to their uncle, who still lay on the cold ground. But his eyes were open and he slowly blinked while trying to focus on them.

Although the orcish armies appeared to have lost their drive, there were still a few stray orcs approaching them, weapons raised. Now the brothers closed the distance between them and their injured uncle, picked up their lost weapons and prepared for his defiance. Back to back they stood, defending each other's weak spots and their uncle with shield and body, although being gravely injured for themselves.

Thankfully, it wasn’t necessary to keep it up for long, as the shrieking noise of a bunch of giant eagles and the roar of a huge bear cut through the air. Fili and Kili exchanged one last relieved look, before exertion and pain caused them to succumb to unconsciousness.

But the Battle of Five Armies was over and the sons of Durin had survived.

~~~

The warm, golden lights of the rising sun, bathing the world in its magnificent glory, promised another beautiful summer day. Fili took in his surroundings, the spectacular colours the rock walls reflected, the crisp morning air and the exhilarating feeling of a new day dawning. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, a triumphant smile on his lips.

It got even brighter when he felt another presence standing behind him. His heart sped up a little, when he addressed him, the word causing a pleasant rumble in his chest.

“Ámrál.”

Instead of an answer, a sleep-drunk murmur reached his ear and he felt strong arms embracing him from behind. He only grinned wider while leaning back into the touch.

“I thought you were still asleep, especially after last night.”

He turned, only to find the same devilish grin on his brother's face.

“I woke up and you were gone. The furs are all cold without you.”

At the memory of the last time those words were spoken between them, and how the situation had changed for them since then, both smiled warmly.

The events of the battle had left the Council of Elders with no other choice than accepting Kili as a suitable consort for the crown prince, having killed the ancient enemy of his line in a most resourceful way.

  
“We might be able to spend a few more hours alone together before we are expected at the official ceremony, humbly bowing our heads and shaking hands old as dirt and stone.”

“I’d rather skip the ceremony and jump to the part where you’re supposed to bed me.”

Fili chuckled, kissing the tip of his brother’s nose.

“We will make the most of it, sitting side by side and make fun of them without even speaking. There will be lots of ale and music.”

He kissed his brother's soft lips and wrapped an ebony strand around his finger.

“I can't wait to braid my beads into that glorious mane. They might be not as perfect as the ones my artsy brother made, but I am quite proud of them anyway.

Kili nodded. The wedding beads Fili had made for him were crafted from Erebor’s finest silver. Of course, Kili had once again surpassed his brother’s work with his own, but Fili didn’t mind.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than Kili’s beads, made of the purest mithril. A tiny cord, symbolising their entwined souls and hearts, had been engraved in the metal. No-one, neither elf nor dwarf, had ever made such intricate and outstanding pieces of jewellery.

Technically, they were not allowed to show their gifts to each other before the ceremony, but when had they ever cared for rules or tradition?

Fili tightened his arms around his brother, whispering into his ear.

“I have something else for you.”

He produced another piece of jewellery from his pocket.

“I know, it's nothing compared with yours, but with your old one displayed in the throne room, I thought you might be in need of a new one.”

Kili gasped when he saw the silver hairpin his brother had made for him. Unlike his first one, this had a tiny sapphire placed in the centre of the coil at the end.

“I know, you don’t like wearing gems but it was so beautiful and you’re heir’s consort now, and…”

“It’s marvellous! You sure, you did it yourself?” he answered, which earned him a punch in the shoulder. When he examined the piece closer, he wondered about another detail.

“It's as sharp and pointy as the old one. Maybe we should smooth the edges to protect your delicate fingers, my prince?”

Another playful punch hit him, and he gladly noticed that Fili’s injured arm seemed to have recovered properly, given the impact.

“I'd rather lose my fingers than have you defenceless in times of greatest peril.”

Kili nodded, then added with feigned thoughtfulness, “it would look quite ridiculous, me dangling from an orc’s arm while trying to stab him with a blunt piece of metal.”

They both laughed heartily when Fili retorted, “it would indeed be an embarrassing way to die. Imagine the great conqueror of Azof the Defiler, the famous Kili hairpin, squashed by an orc because of poorly crafted equipment.”

Fili couldn’t stop laughing over the secret byname his brother had earned himself within the inner circle of the Company, even when it was now Kili’s turn to punch him in the arm. It was worth it.

The brothers brought their foreheads together and kissed again, before Fili searched Kili’s eyes, looking serious all of a sudden.

“You are not to die for at least 300 years.”

“I'll take you up to that challenge.”

They were quiet for a while, indulging in each other’s presence and the morning sun.

“I'm still amazed by this place,” Kili said. “One peak split in two halves. That's quite fitting for us. One soul with two hearts beating.”

“Quite the thoughtful artist, you are, eh?”

“Aren’t dwarven hearts supposed to be made of stone?”

“They may be. But not ours, by far not.”

“Of what are they made then, my prince? Gold?”

Fili didn’t pick up on Kili’s banter, being deep in thought all of a sudden. Then he snapped out of his musings, looked at his little brother, who was about to be married to him today, and beamed.

“No, not something as weak and soft as gold. Something purer, a joy to handle and still strong and unbendable.”

He fondly thought of the two sets of beads sitting in their small wooden boxes downstairs in their room, only waiting to be braided in golden and ebony hair today, and finally had the answer.

“Silver and mithril.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit my [tumblr]() and say hi


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